California Schemin' - Kate George [10]
My flight was announced over the PA, and we hurried toward the gate. My carry-on tipped off its rollers, and I dragged it behind me. Beau looked back and rolled his eyes. He took it from me, collapsed the handle and carried it the rest of the way. We reached the gate, and Beau set my case on the floor, grabbed the open front of my jacket and pulled me to him. The kiss he gave me about stopped my heart. The kind of kiss that shuts down brain function.
“What was that for?” I asked as he released me. My face was hot and I felt like I should be checking to make sure I still had all my clothes on.
“Making sure you don’t forget me between here and Virginia. Now get on the plane. I’ll be waiting here until it takes off.” He kissed me again, this time on the top of the head and sent me down the jet way. Halfway down I remembered my toothpaste and ran back.
“I need my toothpaste and moisturizer.”
“What?”
“My stuff.” I rummaged in his pocket for the bottle and tube. “Where are they?”
“I left them at the check point. The officer said he’d hold them for me.”
“Damn. I need them. I’m not going to do anything bad with them; I just forgot to put them in my suitcase.”
“I’ll mail them to you. Get on the plane.”
“Jeez, when did you get to be so hard line?” I was still trying to work out how to get him to let me have my stuff back. “I don’t want to have to buy that stuff in DC.”
“And here I thought you were jogging back up the jet way because you already missed me.” He planted another kiss on my head. “Go.”
I dragged my bag onto the plane, wishing I could stay or that Beau was coming with me and wondering if this was really necessary. I settled into my seat. A small red-haired woman with clear blue eyes sat next to me, smiling tentatively. I smiled back, thinking she looked like a pleasant traveling companion, but I fell asleep after take-off and never found out.
I woke up briefly when we stopped to take on passengers in Las Vegas but fell asleep again when we took off for Virginia.
I woke as the plane landed and my usual disembarking debate started in my head. I thought the smart thing was to stay in my seat until everyone else got off. The other option was to stand up and be squeezed out like toothpaste. I decided I could be calm and wait, but when the plane stopped and the air stopped flowing, I started to get hot. I sat taking deep breaths, waiting for the doors to open. The cabin started to close in on me, and the air seemed hot. I was pretty sure they were filtering the oxygen out of it. I shot a look at the red head in the aisle seat, but she seemed calm. She certainly wasn’t shoving her way into the horde between the seats, which is what I wanted to do. I wondered if I’d get arrested if I climbed over the other passengers and clawed my way out of the door.
I managed to keep my impulses in check and emerged from the plane hoping for a blast of cool air to soothe my overheated synapses. Unfortunately, the airport was hot and damp. It was raining outside, and the combination of wet travelers and heated air was stifling. I mentally ran through my usual list of swear words and headed for baggage claim, but the bank of monitors announcing departures caught my eye, and I stopped dead. There was a flight to Manchester, New Hampshire, leaving in a little over an hour. I stood there looking at the screen, needing to head for home but afraid I’d mess everything up. Meg would be waiting for me in Burlington in the morning. Beau and Fogel would flay me alive if I didn’t show up at the hotel, and there was no guarantee that I wouldn’t be stranded in Manchester. All this subterfuge was annoying.
I dragged my luggage off the conveyor belt in baggage claim and wheeled it out to the taxi stand. I was about to get in a cab when I saw